Roots
by ShastenRothe
Summary: Sequel to The Lightning Strike It only takes a single confrontation, a split second decision to send you back into a dark, downward spiral that you had hoped you would never have to revisit. The question is, how hard is Owen willing to fight or will he succumb to the darkness, leaving Cristina in the dust?
1. Hold Each Other

**Author's Note: Here is the first chapter to the sequel of "The Lightning Strike." If you haven't read it yet, check it out! I've been plotting this one out for quite awhile. This chapter is probably my least favorite that I've written- I said it with The Lightning Strike and I'll say it here. I'm not big on writing "fluffy" stories…but sometimes even the darkest stories need "fluff." I'm going to try a new method of posting for this story so that the updates will be more frequent- currently I have the first and 2nd chapters done. I'll try to space them out by a few days/a week. By the time I post the 2nd chapter, I hope to have the 3rd done and so on. Enjoy! Read and Review.**  
**This story is named after the Imagine Dragons song "Roots." Each chapter will be named after a song goes along with the chapter's "theme."**

* * *

 _I know that we've been through a lot_

 _I know that we both grew up_

 _You know I missed you a lot_

 _When I was young I was dumb_

 _Didn't think you'd fit in my plot_

 _And I appreciate the break because I love what we got now_

 _Something happens when I hold her_

 _She keeps my heart from getting older_

 _When the days get short and the nights get a little bit colder_

 _We hold each other  
~A Great Big World feat. Futuristic~ Hold Each Other_

* * *

It wasn't more than a week later when Owen found himself jolted awake in the middle of the night by the loud and obnoxious ringtone playing from Cristina's phone. Rolling over, he checked the alarm clock beside the bed. 4:03 a.m.

" Cristina…phone," he mumbled, gently nudging her side. A slew of profanities escaped her mouth as she grabbed her phone. She was supposed to have the day off.

" Hello?" she answered wearily, her eyes still closed. Seconds later she bolted straight up in bed.

" What?! Are you serious? We'll be right there." Cristina hung up immediately, turning on the bedside lamp.

" What the hell?" Owen blurted out as the bright light forced his eyes open.

" That was Derek. Meredith's water just broke. They wanted to know if you'd stay with Zola for awhile until someone can pick her up and take her to daycare."

" Of course," he replied, his legs feeling slightly shaky as he jumped out of bed.

" Watch it there. I don't have time to be rushing you to the ER because you tripped over your feet and busted your face open."

" Hey now," Owen started as he tugged on a pair of jeans and a hoodie before following Cristina downstairs. Without bothering to grab a jacket, she bolted out the door and for her car. Owen slowly caught up to her and opened the passenger door as she put the keys in the ignition. Before he had the chance to buckle his seatbelt, Cristina put the car in drive and gunned it as she turned into the street.

* * *

" Jesus…slow down!" Owen said as he watched the speedometer climb higher and higher.

" I'm not going to miss the birth of my nephew because someone wants me to drive like a grandma," she retorted as they continued speeding down the road.

While a trip out to Meredith and Derek's house normally took nearly thirty minutes from the house, Owen found himself with a white knuckle grip on the door handle as Cristina flew down their driveway, their trip only taking sixteen minutes. Cristina sloppily parked her car beside Derek's SUV which was already running. As they got out of the car, Cristina hopped into the SUV while Owen made his way up the stairs to the front door. Before he could knock, the door swung open and out stepped Meredith and Derek.

" Contractions are 5-10 minutes apart. Pray we don't have to deliver this baby on the side of the road," Derek said as Meredith glared at him.

" Cristina's waiting in the car," Owen told her reassuringly.

" Don't let Zola sleep past 8:00 a.m. or it will be next to impossible to get her to bed on time. We'll call and keep you posted," shouted Derek as they made their way down the stairs, Meredith's groans of pain echoing in the silence of the night. Owen made his way inside, making sure to close the door quietly behind him to avoid waking Zola. He sank into the overstuffed sofa, propping up his tired legs as he grabbed a nearby blanket to cover up with. Before he closed his eyes, he set the alarm clock on his phone for 7:45 a.m. on the off chance Zola slept longer than he did.

* * *

" You snore!" proclaimed Zola the next morning. Owen found himself startled awake from a deep sleep to find the little girl standing at the foot of the couch staring at him.

" Do not," he replied as he sat up.

" Where are my mommy and daddy Uncle Owen?" she asked as she crawled up on the couch beside him.

" Your mommy is at the hospital having your baby brother," he explained as Zola snuggled in beside him.

" Can I see him?"

" Your daddy is going to call us when he's born and then we can go see him. Does that sound like a good idea?"

" Mhmm. What's for breakfast?"

" What do you want to eat? I could make you pancakes?" Owen offered.

" You know how to cook? When Auntie Tina stays with me we either eat cereal or get Dunkin Donuts."

" That's because your Aunt Cristina isn't a very good cook," he replied with a grin as he shuffled to the kitchen and opened a cupboard, thankful to find the pancake mix on his first try.

* * *

It wasn't long before the air in Meredith and Derek's kitchen hung heavy with the smell of fluffy pancakes.

" You're a good cook Uncle Owen!" Zola proclaimed as Owen's phone began ringing. Owen glanced at the screen, noting that it was Derek as he swiped to answer it.

" I'm assuming since you're just calling that you and Cristina didn't have to deliver the baby on the side of the road."

" We came pretty close," Derek replied.

How's Zola?"

" Let me put her on speaker phone," Owen said, pushing a button.

" Hi Zola. It's Daddy. What are you and Uncle Owen doing?"

" Uncle Owen made me pancakes. He didn't even set the microwave on fire like Auntie Tina did that one time." Owen laughed, nearly choking on his pancakes.

" Cristina set the microwave on fire?" Derek and Owen asked in unison.

" Yup. That's why we get donuts in the morning now when she watches me."

" Zola, guess what?" asked Derek, changing the subject.

" What? Is my baby brother born?"

" He is!"

" Can we come see him?" she asked excitedly.

" I'm going to come home in a little bit so I can bring you to the hospital."

" Why can't Uncle Owen bring me now?"

" Because Uncle Owen isn't allowed to drive right now honey…and he better not try. I'll be home shortly."

" Ok Daddy. I'll see you soon," Zola stated as she pressed the **END CALL** button then turned her attention to Owen.

" Why can't you drive Uncle Owen? I thought Mommy and Daddy fixed your boo boos."

" They did sweetie. My legs still get tired sometimes."

" Oh. Okay."

" How about we get you dressed and then if your daddy isn't here yet we can play?"

" Will you play dress up with me?" she asked as she led Owen down the hallway.

" Of course," he replied.

* * *

Ten minutes later Owen found himself wearing a plastic tiara, decked out in oodles of plastic costume jewelry. He was glad it was just the two of them. If Cristina had present there would surely be blackmail pictures. As Zola draped a pink feather boa around his neck the front door opened.

" Daddy!" Owen turned to find a tired looking Derek embracing Zola.

Uncle Owen played dress up with me!"

" I see that," Derek stated as he sat down on the couch beside Owen and pulled Zola onto his lap.

" How's Meredith?" Owen asked as he pulled off the feather boa.

" Tired," Derek quickly responded as he pulled out his phone.

" I swear to god if you take a picture of me…"

" Do you really think I'd do something like that?" challenged Derek as he stood.

Let's go see your Mommy and brother kiddo." Owen stood up and absentmindedly followed the two to the door.

" Hunt…you might want to remove your princess earrings before we get to the hospital." Owen yanked the sparkly clip on earrings off and set them on a table.

" Let's go see your brother," he said, grabbing Zola's hand as they walked to the car.


	2. Roots

**Author's Note: First off, thank you so much for the great reviews! Second, Derek will remain alive and well. No worries there! Now that we have the fluffy chapter out of the way, it's time for things to get dark and twisty. Enjoy and please read/review!**

* * *

 _Don't throw stones at me_

 _Don't tell anybody_

 _Trouble finds me_

 _All the noise of this_

 _Has made me lose my belief_

 _I'm going back to my roots_

 _Another day, another door_

 _Another high, another low_

 _Rock bottom, rock bottom, rock bottom_

 _I'm going back to my roots_

 _Another day, another door_

 _Another high, another low_

 _Rock bottom, rock bottom, rock bottom_

 _I'm going back to my roots_

 _Had to lose my way_

 _To know which road to pave_

 _Trouble found me_

 _All I looked for was_

 _Washed away by a wave…  
~Imagine Dragons~ Roots_

* * *

" Hunt! You better have an early therapy session scheduled!" Bailey yelled down the hallway as Owen stepped off the elevator, having come from just seeing Meredith and Derek's baby.

" I was just up in the maternity ward…" he stammered as Bailey caught up to him. With his slow gait, it didn't take very long for her to reach him.

" Do you have a uterus?"

" Excuse me?"

" Did I stutter?" challenged Bailey.

" Last time I checked, no. I was visiting Meredith and the baby," he responded, doing his best not to laugh at Bailey's question.

" Keep it up Hunt and I won't sign off to clear you for surgery," Bailey warned as she started walking away.

" But…"

" Don't waste your breath Hunt. Walk away." Owen stood in the middle of the hallway, his mouth agape. Shaking his head, he stumbled off towards the attending's locker room. In the midst of all the chaos this morning he hadn't gotten the opportunity to shower.

* * *

" Hey Princess," Cristina stated with a smirk as Owen made his way out of the therapy clinic later in the day.

" Remind me to kill Shepherd later," Owen muttered as he grabbed her hand. Cristina could feel the electricity in the air as their hands touched.

" How was therapy?" she asked absentmindedly, trying to ignore the obvious sexual tension that had sparked between them.

" I made it up and down three flights of stairs today before my legs gave out," he said as they began walking.

" Do you know when they're going to release you to come back to work?"

" Shepherd and Bailey both have to sign off to release me then PT will do an evaluation," Owen explained with a yawn.

" Do you want me to take you back to the house? Derek gave me his keys since my car is still at their house."

" I was thinking of taking a nap here actually," Owen said as they stopped outside of an on-call room.

Maybe you could join me?" he asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

" Where did that come from?" Cristina wondered as they stepped into the room, the door slamming behind them.

" Does it matter?" Owen challenged as he locked the door before pinning Cristina against it. She shook her head as Owen kissed her.

" That's what I thought."

* * *

" Are you sure you have to go?" Owen asked as Cristina hurriedly sat up, checking her pager.

" As much as I'd like to stay in bed naked with you, the ER is paging me for a consult," she replied as she pulled on her scrubs.

Why don't you come down with me and when I'm done we can run back to the house?" Owen felt a wave of excitement wash over him as he pulled his clothes back on. Thought he knew he shouldn't rush his recovery, he couldn't wait to get back to work. He missed the chaos of the ER and the eerily peaceful calm he found in the OR.

By the time he had tugged on his shoes, Cristina was already down the hallway, standing in front of the elevators. Though his body protested, Owen found himself heading down the hallway in a slow jog. As he stumbled into the elevator, Owen braced himself against the back wall, his legs feeling like jelly. Between his and Cristina's much needed rendezvous in the on-call room and the jog he just took down the hallway, Owen found himself ready for a nap as the elevator landed on the ground floor.

" Hey, I'm just going to lay here for a bit. Come find me when you're done," he said as he sat down on a gurney near the nurse's station. Cristina hurried away as Owen laid back and closed his eyes.

* * *

Some time later Owen awoke to the sound of sirens approaching. He sat up, briefly taking notice that the sun had begun to set outside. How long had he been asleep? Wiping sleep from his eyes, Owen pulled his phone out of his pocket. 5:35. He had been asleep for over two hours. An icon flashed on the screen, signaling that he had a text message.

 **Cristina (Sent at 3:27): I'm headed up to the OR. Could take awhile. Try catching a ride with Karev?**

Owen found himself irritated with the thought of bumming a ride with Karev. He had hoped Cristina would be around to take him home so that they could continue where they had left off in the on-call room. As he approached the nurse's station, April Kepner ran by him, pausing to tie the strings on her trauma gown.

* * *

" Kepner. What's going on?" he asked curiously.

" Motorcycle accident at the Seattle Motorcycle Expo. Apparently there was some Evil Knivel type stunt show that went wrong."

" You might want to page security," Owen stated as a group of burly men burst into the ER, clad in leather and denim.

" They're already on their way," she replied as Richard Webber approached them.

" Hunt! Just the man I wanted to see. Have Bailey and Shepherd signed off on your release yet?"

" Unfortunately not sir. Cristina got called into surgery so I'm stuck here until I find a ride." Webber suddenly turned his attention to the group of bikers who had accumulated near the ambulance bay.  
" Dr. Webber. Incoming," shouted a nurse as a stretcher was pushed through the ER doors.

" Lucas Haney. 37. Suffered multiple crush injuries. GCS of 7."  
" Trauma 1. Page Torres," April instructed as another stretcher was rushed into the ER.

" That's him. He's the one who wrecked into Lucas," shouted a burly man.

" Where's security?" Webber asked as the flock of men attempted to block him from attending to the patient.

" Dr. Webber, he's crashing," stated a nurse.

" Go. I've got this," Owen stated as he stepped in front of the stretcher, shielding the patient from the group of angry men.

* * *

" Get out of our way."

" Why? So you can go cause chaos and inflict more bodily harm to a patient that's already suffering? I don't think so."

" I believe my friend asked you to get out of his way," snarled a large man who was wearing a bandana and sunglasses.

" Not going to happen," said Owen firmly.

" And just who do you think you are?" challenged a man with an unruly beard.

" I'm the Chief of Surgery."

" Well Mr. Chief of Surgery, I suggest you move right now…or my friend here is going to move you himself."

" I'd like to see him try. Did I mention I used to be in…" Owen was interrupted as a strong left hook connected with his face, causing his head to snap backward.

" You're going to have to hit me harder than that," Owen said without hesitation, blood dripping from a cut on his lip as he swung back, his fist connecting with the man's cheek. Before he could duck, the man sank his fist into Owen's chest. In an instant he could feel the air escaping his lungs. He attempted to catch his breath, but was caught off guard as a set of hands appeared out of nowhere and grasped him by the shoulders. Owen vaguely recalled the shouts of security as he was kicked in the chest and crashed to the ground, his head making a sickening, cracking sound as it hit the floor. A chill went down his spine as he briefly closed his eyes, the coldness of the tiled floor bearing an all too familiar resemblance to the cold barrel of a gun that had been pressed to his neck just a few short months ago.


	3. Cough Syrup

**Author's Note: I know I promised to have chapters out without large gaps between them and I fully intend to do so in the future. I've had some neurological issues pop up over the past few months after having surgery last fall. (If you have spare time and are curious, look up Chiari Malformation Type 1 and Pseudo Tumor Cerebri/Idiopathic Intercranial Hypertension. Where's McDreamy when I need him?) Anyways, here is the long lost third chapter (fourth chapter will be up in a few days!)… Enjoy and please read/review!**

* * *

 _Life's too short to even care at all, oh_

 _I'm losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control, oh oh_

 _~Young The Giant~ Cough Syrup_

* * *

" Dr. Hunt. Dr. Hunt. Can you hear me?"

Owen slowly reopened his eyes to find a worried Jackson Avery kneeling beside him.

" Huh? What's going on?" he asked, feeling slightly disoriented as he struggled to sit up.

" You took a pretty hard hit," Jackson explained as Owen pushed away his hands and brought himself to a standing position.

" I'm fine," he spat.

" Are you sure?"

" I said I'm fine!" Owen replied despite the throbbing pain in his head. In addition to the pain in his head, Owen was fairly sure he had a few broken ribs as well. He stumbled over to a supply cart and grabbed a fistful of gauze, pressing it to his head in attempts to staunch the blood coming from a cut.

" Will you at least let me take a look at your head?" Jackson asked, as Owen's attempts to stop the bleeding on his own were proving fruitless.

" Fine," said Owen begrudgingly as Jackson turned to a nurse.

" What's open?"

" Exam 5."

" Could you do me a favor?" Jackson asked, dropping his voice so Owen wouldn't hear him.

Could you page Dr. Shepherd for me?"

" Isn't he on paternity leave?" questioned the nurse.

" Just page him. Please."

* * *

" I'm going to go grab something to eat while he's asleep. Do you want anything?" Derek questioned as he stepped out of the bathroom in Meredith's room, his hair still wet from the shower he had just taken.

" A nap," Meredith mumbled as Derek tugged on a pair of jeans and a grey thermal shirt he had grabbed from his locker.

" Then I'll see you two in a little bit. Sleep well," he said, bending over to place a kiss on both Meredith's forehead and his son's. Quietly he snuck into the hallway, making sure to close the door behind him as gently as possible. As he made his way to the elevator, Derek felt a familiar buzz against his hip. His pager.

'I thought I turned the damned thing off,' he thought, stepping onto the elevator that had just opened in front of him. Derek pulled the pager out of its holster and glanced at the screen.

 **E.R. CONSULT. EXAM 5. J. AVERY**

* * *

" Avery, what am I doing here?" Derek asked as he shoved open the door to Exam 5 a few minutes later, doing his best to push all irritation he felt aside.

" Why don't you ask Hunt?"

" You paged Shepherd?" Owen shouted angrily as he attempted to sit up.

" If I have to physically restrain you, I will," Jackson threatened as he shoved Owen back onto the bed.

" What the hell happened?" wondered Derek as he eyed Owen's bloodied face before grabbing a pair of gloves.

" He got his ass kicked by a group of bikers."

" I was stopping them from attacking Webber's patient."

" He got his ass kicked by a group of bikers," Jackson repeated as he draped a cloth over Owen's blood stained t-shirt.

" Did he lose consciousness?" inquired Derek as he shined a penlight in Owen's eyes.

" Briefly. You could hear his head crack against the floor half way across the ER," replied Jackson as he swabbed Owen's forehead with Betadine.

" Any signs of disorientation?"

" I'm right here. No need to talk over me like I'm not," Owen interjected.

" Minimal…but there are definitely signs of combative tendencies."

" I am not combative!" muttered Owen.

" Case and point," Jackson stated as he numbed the area he was about to stitch back together.

" I'm going to order an MRI to rule out the possibility of further brain injury," said Derek as he grabbed the nearby iPad containing Owen's latest chart.

" Can one of you two fine gentlemen get me something for this hangover?"

" Monitor his neurological status and let me know if there are any changes."

" If no one is going to give me anything for this wicked headache, can I at least get another scotch?"

" You're not drunk. You got your ass kicked," Derek stated irately.

" You seem pissed," Owen observed.

" Pissed doesn't even begin to cover it. I've been up for longer than I can remember. I was going to go grab the first meal I've had in 18 hours then go spend time with my wife, our daughter, and our newborn son. And then if I was lucky, I was going to attempt to sleep. Instead, I'm here in the ER, ordering scans because you can't keep your damn hands to yourself. Avery, page me when the results come back." Derek handed the iPad back to Jackson before peeling off his gloves and slamming the door behind him.

* * *

" That went well I think," Owen stated, oblivious to the needle that Jackson was lacing carefully through his skin.

" If you don't stop talking, my hand is going to wind up moving and you'll wind up looking like Frankenstein."

" Would you mind adding a chest x-ray to that order for Radiology?" Owen asked, wincing at the stabbing pain in his chest.

" Stop talking and I will."

" Deal," mumbled Owen as the recently administered Morphine began flowing through his veins. Within seconds his eyes began growing heavy, his body feeling much more relaxed.

Avery…have I told you…how much I love you?" Jackson laughed quietly as he paused.

" You better not let Yang hear you say that."

" Shit…Cristina."

* * *

" Where have you been?" Meredith asked as Derek quietly slid back into her room.

" Don't ask," he said as he placed a bag on Meredith's bedside table.

" Tell me there's something in there for me. I'm starving," she declared as he sat down.

" Pot Roast or Stir Fry?"

" Stir Fry." Derek handed her the stir-fry, pausing as Bailey stirred in his bassinette beside Meredith's bed.

" Did he not let you take a nap?" he asked as he opened his container of food.

" I swear he waited until I was decently comfortable and had my eyes closed then he screamed until I picked him up. As soon as I lifted him out of the bassinette he stopped. I just got him back to sleep," Meredith whispered.

" Did Arizona stop by with Zola yet?" asked Derek before taking a bite of pot roast. Not yet. She texted me a few minutes ago saying she was running late grabbing her and Sofia from daycare."

" Then I'm just going to close my eyes until they get here…" Derek mumbled, suddenly not feeling very hungry as exhaustion set in.

" I think I'll join you," Meredith declared as she sat down her half eaten container of stir-fry. Derek propped his feet up on Meredith's bed and awkwardly rearranged himself so his head was on her shoulder.

* * *

It wasn't even ten minutes later when Derek awoke to the sound of tapping on the window. Bailey awoke screaming, having been startled from the sudden noise.

" Remind me to kill Avery," grumbled Meredith as she carefully picked up their crying son.

" I'll be right back," he said, making sure to quietly shut the door behind him as Meredith did her best to console Bailey.

" Shit…I'm sorry. Did I wake him up?" Jackson asked.  
" Just steer clear of Meredith for awhile," Derek advised as he took the iPad from Jackson.

What's his neurological status?" he asked, swiping through images from Owen's latest scans.  
" Well, he professed his love to me before I took him down to Radiology…but that was probably just the Morphine," Jackson said with a laugh.

" You do have dreamy eyes," Derek retorted with a grin as he viewed the last image on the screen.

" Do you see what I see?"  
" Unfortunately. Give me a minute and I'll come down to the ER with you," replied Derek as he turned and walked back into the room.

* * *

"I'll be right back. There's something I need to take care of," he said, walking over to Meredith and placing a kiss on her forehead.

" What are you doing? I thought you were on leave," Meredith stated angrily, cradling Bailey to her chest as she fed him.

" I am. Avery just needed me for a quick consult. I won't be long."

" A consult for who?"  
" Long story," Derek answered, gently placing a kiss on their newborn son's cheek.

I'll be back soon."

* * *

A groan escaped Owen's mouth as Derek entered Exam 5, flipping on the light switch, Jackson close behind him.

" Can't a man sleep around here?" Owen grumbled.

" Not when you've got a linear skull fracture, a concussion, and 3 broken ribs," Derek stated as he once again shined a penlight into Owen's eyes.

" You've got to be kidding me."

" I wish I was," Derek replied as he handed Owen the iPad so he could look at his scans.

" What the hell was I thinking," Owen said with a sigh, slamming his head against the pillows. He almost instantly regretted the decision, as his skull throbbed in protest.

" Oh…you'll have plenty of time to think about your stupidity. I'm admitting you overnight for observation."

" Seriously?"

" It gets better. I'm going to make sure Avery's intern completes neurological checks every three hours," finished Derek as a wry smile crept across his face.

" You're enjoying this aren't you?"

" Just a bit," responded Derek as he handed Jackson the iPad back.

Don't page me again unless he's dying. Now if you two will excuse me, I'm going to go finally spend time with my wife and kids."


	4. Not Today

**Author's Note: I'll make this short and sweet. Thank you so much for all of the kind words with the last chapter. I had to deal with some writer's block on this chapter…and once I had it complete it took me three days to find the right song to name it after! I've hit an upswing writing wise so I hope to get another chapter out soon! Enjoy!

* * *

 _It's gotta get easier, oh easier somehow_

 _Cause I'm falling, I'm falling_

 _Oh easier and easier somehow_

 _Oh I'm calling, I'm calling_

 _And it isn't over unless it is over_

 _I don't wanna wait for that_

 _It's gotta get easier and easier somehow_

 _But not today_

 _Not today…  
~Imagine Dragons~ Not Today_

* * *

Cristina stifled a yawn as she stepped out of the OR. What was supposed to be a quick surgery had turned into one that had lasted over four hours. All she wanted was to find Owen, go home, collapse into bed, and order takeout.

" Karev…have you seen Owen?" she asked as she came upon Alex who was sitting at a nearby nurse's station, studying the iPad screen in front of him.

" Last I heard he was in the ER getting his ass kicked by a biker gang." Cristina let out a laugh as she turned to look Alex in the face.

" How stupid do you think I am Karev?"

" If you don't believe me, ask Avery."

" Ask Avery what?" Jackson asked as he approached the two.

" Alex seems to think that Owen got into some kind of fight with a biker gang in the ER."

" No…that really happened. Didn't you get my texts?"

" I've been in the OR for almost five hours," she replied as she pulled her phone out. 2 text messages from Owen, 5 from Jackson, and a missed call from Derek. Cristina felt the blood drain from her face.

" Is he okay?"

" Broken ribs, a nasty cut on his head, a concussion, and a linear skull fracture," Jackson explained.

" What room?" Cristina asked angrily.

" 317." Without another word, she took off running for the stairs.

* * *

A familiar sense of anxiety crept over Cristina as she approached Owen's hospital room. Memories of him laying in a coma in the ICU, attached to every sort of machine floated through her head as she paused outside his room. A quick peek through the glass revealed a sleeping Owen, a large bandage covering the cut on his forehead. Cristina found herself looking away as her anxiety turned to rage. It had only been a mere week since they had laid in her bed together, Owen promising her that he'd keep his savior complex in check. The sound of footsteps behind her caused Cristina to turn around.

" How is he?" Richard Webber asked as he glanced through the same window Cristina had been standing at moments earlier.

" I don't know. I just got out of surgery," she responded.

What the hell was he thinking?" Cristina muttered, sighing as she worriedly ran her fingers through her curls.

" For what it's worth, had Hunt not stepped in when he did, my patient would have died in the ER. His quick thinking gave me the chance to stabilize the man before rushing him to the OR."

" That's great and all…but it still doesn't excuse him from asserting his damn savior complex and getting his ass kicked in the process."

" Go easy on him Yang."

" Easier said than done sir," Cristina said as Webber walked away. She started to turn back towards Owen's room, pausing as her hand reached for the doorknob. Cristina quickly pulled her hand back as her heart sank in her chest. She couldn't do it. Not now. Maybe later.

* * *

" Dr. Hunt…wake up." Owen stirred groggily in his bed as Shane Ross's voice brought him out of a deep sleep.

" Ross…it's four a.m. Why do you sound so awake?" he muttered.

" Coffee sir," replied Ross as he flicked on the bedside lights.

" Are you trying to blind me?" Owen snapped.

" Sorry sir."

" Enough of the 'sir' crap. My neurological status is the same as it was three hours ago. Just let me go back to sleep."

" Dr. Avery said if I don't do the checks he won't let me see the inside of an OR for months."

" Well, I'm Avery's boss…"

" With all due respect sir, he said that you'd try and use that angle."

" I'll deal with Avery. Now turn off the damn lights and let me go back to sleep." Owen watched as the frazzled intern flipped off the lights and stumbled out of the room, not sure what to make of his sudden outburst. He grabbed for his phone that lay on his bedside table, hoping it contained a message from Cristina. Owen's heart fell in his chest as he glimpsed at the empty screen in front of him. He hadn't heard from her since the text he had received stating she was stuck in the OR. Surely she knew about the incident in the ER earlier. He knew how the hospital's rumor mill worked. With a sigh he dropped his phone back down and closed his eyes. He would text Cristina when he woke up.

* * *

" Is there a reason Shane Ross is refusing to step foot near your room?" challenged Derek a few short hours later.

" You look like hell," Owen stated, putting his phone down for what seemed like the hundredth time as a disheveled Derek walked into his room.

" Don't change the subject."

" I may or may not have thrown him out of my room earlier," responded Owen.

" You're a pain in the ass," Derek said with a yawn, sinking into the sofa near Owen's bed.

" Have you seen Cristina?"

" She's up with Meredith and Bailey right now actually."

" She's pissed isn't she?"

" Pissed is an understatement," Derek replied.

She refused to take you home until Meredith talked some sense into her." Owen remained silent as a knock sounded on the door. He found little time to collect his thoughts as Cristina entered.

" Cristina…" Owen's voice cracked as he uttered her name, hopeful for some kind of reaction. Without hesitation she turned her attention to Derek who had stood from his spot on the couch.

" Total bed rest for three days. When I say total bed rest, I mean total bed rest. I better not find out you're out of bed doing something stupid or Cristina will be the least of your problems."

" What about therapy and getting back to work?" Owen interjected.

" Provided you're not having any lingering symptoms from the skull fracture and concussion, you should be able to resume your PT sessions next week."

" And work?"

" We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

* * *

" Fair enough," Owen replied with a sigh. As much as he wanted to argue with Derek, he knew it wasn't going to get him anywhere right now. He scrawled his signature on the electronic discharge form and handed the iPad back to Derek. Cristina silently pushed a wheelchair to Owen's bedside, doing her best to avoid making eye contact. The ride to her car downstairs was both awkward and silent. She opened the passenger door to her car, allowing Owen to climb inside. He barely had time to be seated before she slammed the door shut with such force that Owen found his head pounding from the loud noise.

" Can we talk about this?" Owen asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.

" What's there to talk about?" Cristina snapped, turning the radio up in attempts to drown out Owen's voice.

" It's not what you think," Owen argued. Instead of answering him, she turned the volume up even higher.

" Cristina. STOP!" Owen yelled, his voice bellowing over the music coming from the speakers. Cristina begrudgingly pulled the car over, parking on a side street just a few blocks from Meredith's house.

* * *

" This wasn't supposed to happen."

" You don't say," she snapped, still refusing to look at Owen.

" I'm serious. I woke up to the sound of sirens as I saw your text. I fully intended to come upstairs to watch your surgery. I was heading to the elevators when a frantic April Kepner ran towards me. I don't know what came over me. The surgeon in me ached for the adrenaline rush I feel every time I set foot in a trauma room or an OR. I haven't felt that rush, that high in months. I'm not used to feeling so weak and helpless. So when Webber's patient crashed in the middle of the ER I knew what I had to do. The biker threw the first punch!" he exclaimed.

" It's always someone else's fault," Cristina muttered.

" What do you want me to say Cristina?" Owen demanded as she began driving again.

" How about you stop making promises you obviously can't keep?" she spat as they pulled into the driveway outside Meredith's house.

" What are you talking about?" he asked quizzically before climbing out of the car.

" Of course you don't remember."

" Remember what?"

" I don't have time for this. I've got surgery," responded Cristina as she tossed Owen his keys before nearly peeling rubber out of the driveway.

* * *

As he entered the house, Owen wracked his exhausted brain for any hint of what Cristina had been talking about. By the time he had made his way upstairs, his head was viciously pounding. Owen stumbled into the bathroom, grateful to find a bottle of Tylenol sitting on the counter. He quickly swallowed two pills with a splash of water from the sink before making his way back to the bedroom. Owen paused briefly as he tossed the covers back and got into bed. It wasn't until he closed his eyes and smelled the faint scent of Cristina's shampoo that it hit him. Just a few weeks ago they had laid side by side in bed as Owen promised to keep his savior complex in check. As sleep overtook him, Owen found himself plagued with guilt.


	5. My Demons

**Author's Note: It's about to get dark and twisty with a side of angst. That's all I can say. Enjoy and thanks for the reviews!

* * *

 _Mayday! Mayday!_

 _The ship is slowly sinking_

 _They think I'm crazy but they don't know the feeling_

 _They're all around me,_

 _Circling like vultures_

 _They wanna break me and wash away my colors_

 _Wash away my colors…_

 _Take me high and I'll sing_

 _Oh you make everything okay, okay, okay_

 _'Kay, Okay, Okay_

 _We are one in the same_

 _Oh you take all of the pain away, away, away_

 _'Way, away, away_

 _Save me if I become_

 _My demons_

 _I cannot stop this sickness taking over_

 _It takes control and drags me into nowhere_

 _I need your help, I can't fight this forever…  
~Starset~ My Demons_

* * *

Owen awoke hours later to a loud pounding on the bedroom door. It swung open to reveal Alex who was holding a paper bag that smelled of Chinese food.

" Go away Karev. I'm not hungry," Owen stated, glancing at the alarm clock beside the bed. He had been asleep for almost five hours.

" With all due respect, Yang threatened to slash my tires if I didn't bring you food before I headed to the hospital. I could care less if you actually eat it," Alex said as he placed the bag and a bottle of water on the bed. He stopped in the doorway and turned around so he was once again facing Owen.

" What did you do to piss her off so much? She looked like she wanted to run you over when she dropped you off earlier."

" I saved Webber's patient in the ER yesterday."

" By getting your ass kicked," Alex pointed out.

" Doesn't anybody care that I saved that man from getting killed?"

" Not really," said Alex as he walked into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Owen found himself aggravated as he got up to use the restroom. He had saved a man's life. What was so hard to see about that? It wasn't like he had tackled a guy with a gun again. He had intervened in the midst of an emergency. If Owen hadn't stepped in when he did, the man would have died. How could Cristina be angry about that? They saved lives every day. Why was what he did any different? Owen sighed in frustration as he finished washing his hands. All of the constant back and forth in his head had caused it to begin pounding again. Owen grabbed the bottle of Tylenol and made his way back to the bedroom. Despite what his brain was telling him, Owen felt his stomach rumble as he got back into bed. He quickly swallowed the Tylenol then opened the bag, inhaling the mouthwatering aroma of Mr. Chow's egg rolls. After turning the television to a Mariner's game and biting into one of the egg rolls, Owen grabbed his phone off the nightstand. He opened up a new screen that contained all of his and Cristina's recent text messages.

 **Owen (Sent at 5:56p): Thanks for the food. Didn't realize how hungry I was.  
(Sent at 5:59p): Don't slash Karev's tires.**

Owen stared blankly at the phone in attempts to will it to chime that he had a new message. Nearly ten minutes proceeded to tick by, during which the Mariners managed to score two runs

* * *

Two hours later Owen found himself fighting to stay awake. The Mariners game had ended and it was pretty clear Cristina had no intentions of returning his messages. Owen shoved the empty bag and containers from Mr. Chow's into the trash can then got out of bed. He plugged his phone into the charger beside the bed and headed for the bathroom. After brushing his teeth, Owen carefully washed his face, taking special care to avoid the bandage on his forehead. He flopped down on the bed and got situated under the covers. It wasn't long before he fell fast asleep.

* * *

 _'Ding ding…ding ding…ding ding.' The sound of a bell ringing in slow motion echoed in the air. Owen looked around, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. As his eyes frantically scanned the seemingly empty room that he was standing in, Owen found himself wondering where exactly he was.  
'Ding…ding…ding…ding.' There it was again. Owen closed his eyes in attempts to concentrate on the sound. He felt his heart lurch in his chest once he opened them, no longer questioning where he was. Though he was the only person there, Owen undoubtedly knew that he was standing in a gas station. A paralyzing sense of panic washed over him as the telltale sound of a gun being cocked bounced off the walls. Owen tried running, knowing what was about to happen. Why weren't his legs moving? He dragged himself to the door, feeling sick as he discovered it was bolted shut. Where was the lock? How was he going to get out? Owen backed up against the door, willing it to open. He couldn't die. He had to get out of there. That's when he heard it. The sound of a bullet penetrated the air and pierced his chest.  
"No!" he screamed as a large crimson stain spread across his shirt._

* * *

Owen bolted straight up in bed, clutching his chest, his heart beating like a jackhammer. He felt around his shirt, certain that it was going to be saturated with his own blood. With trembling hands, he reached over and flipped on the bedside lamp. After careful examination of his hands and chest, Owen breathed a sigh of relief. It was just a dream. He stood on unsteady legs and headed to the bathroom, his hands shaking as he turned on the light. Owen felt his heart pound rapidly in his chest as he splashed water on his face, desperate to wash away the fear that lingered. He returned to bed, trying to push the uneasiness out of his head as he got under the covers once again. Owen closed his eyes, praying that sleep came soon.

* * *

 **12:06 a.m.**

 **12:07 a.m.**

 **12:08 a.m.**

 **12:26 a.m.**

 **12:51 a.m.**

 **1:03 a.m.**

Owen watched the minutes tick by on the alarm clock, his brain refusing to shut off. He threw the covers back in frustration before heading to the bathroom.

 **1:12 a.m.**

 **1:26 a.m.**

 **1:34 a.m.**

 **1:57 a.m.**

* * *

Owen sighed and grabbed the remote, having given up on trying to sleep for the moment. He hoped watching t.v. would take his mind off of things so he could relax and get some rest. After flipping through endless infomercials he settled on a House Hunters marathon on HGTV. It was better than tossing and turning in bed.

Five episodes later, Owen found himself finally feeling tired. He turned off the t.v. and silently laughed at the woman who had insisted on having a one story house so her dogs didn't have to climb any stairs. Owen closed his eyes, anxious to find sleep.

* * *

By 5:34 a.m., it was pretty clear to Owen that he wasn't going to get anything that resembled decent sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he felt enveloped with fear as images of bullets piercing his chest floated through his head. And the blood. Owen once again got out of bed, this time heading downstairs in search of something that resembled breakfast. After realizing there was no milk, bread, or eggs, he settled for a bowl of granola mixed with the last cup of yogurt in the fridge. A long yawn escaped his mouth as he sat down at the kitchen table. Maybe he could take a nap on the couch when he was done. Maybe…maybe he…maybe…

* * *

" Wake up Sleeping Beauty."  
" Huh?" Owen mumbled as he opened his eyes.

It took him a few seconds to realize he had face planted into the half eaten bowl of granola in front of him.  
" What are you doing here?" Owen asked Derek.

" I was going to grab Zola's sandals and stuffed monkey she left here the other day, but this is much more entertaining," he replied with a smirk as he watched Owen wipe yogurt off of his face.

" You have really bad timing," Owen declared,

" I know," Derek answered as he opened the fridge.

" Unless you're going to eat that half empty container of cream cheese, you're better off hungry," said Owen as he stood and rinsed off his bowl.

" How do you manage to not starve?" questioned Derek.

" Normally I do the grocery shopping."

" That explains why she tried paying me to go to the grocery store last night."

" You talked to Cristina? She hasn't returned my texts," Owen explained as they walked into the living room.

" You screwed up Hunt. Whether you choose to admit it or not, you screwed up. Give her time." Owen sighed as he handed Derek Zola's things and held the front door open. Derek was right. He HAD screwed up- big time. The question was, what could he say or do to make things right with Cristina?


	6. Thick As Thieves

**Author's Note: Stay tuned for more dark and twisty. (Did you think I was going to wrap it up all nice and pretty so easily?) Enjoy and thanks for the reviews!

* * *

 _And guilty I may be_

 _But don't give up on me_

 _In the wake of the Odyssey_

 _We will still be thick as thieves_

 _You and me still thick as thieves_

 _~Thick As Thieves~ Shinedown_

* * *

By the third day of bed rest, Owen found himself running on fumes. The nightmares had become relentless to the point Owen was lucky if he got a solid thirty minutes of sleep. He knew he should talk to Derek, but something inside him stopped him from doing so. Cristina was still refusing his phone calls. He must have left half a dozen voicemails and double the amount of text messages, but received nothing back in return. Owen felt like he had seen every episode of Untold Stories of The ER and found himself able to predict the diagnosis and treatment well before the onscreen doctors did. After finishing an episode where a man's severe migraines turned out to be a bullet lodged in his skull, Owen found himself on the brink of insanity. Without hesitation, he climbed out of bed and switched his pajama pants for sweats and a pair of tennis shoes. It didn't take him long to make his way downstairs to the study where his new treadmill stood waiting. Screw Derek's orders for total bed rest. With the press of a button, the treadmill's display lit up. Owen stepped on, programming the speed to half of what he normally did at the gym. He hadn't been running since before the shooting. As he cranked up the speed, Owen felt his body relax. Running had always been therapeutic for him.

* * *

It wasn't long before his shirt was drenched in sweat. The sound of his shoes pounding on the treadmill filled his ears, distracting him from the burning pain that had begun forming in his calf muscles. Knowing better than to continue straining his already weak legs, Owen adjusted the treadmill's speed, slowing it down so he was moving at more of a brisk walk. By the time he stepped off the treadmill, Owen found himself shocked by the fact that he had run two miles in under twenty minutes. He normally could run five miles in forty-five minutes or less, but considering the fact his body wasn't at its prime due to his injuries, eighteen minutes wasn't a bad accomplishment.

* * *

Owen could feel his legs aching in protest as he shuffled into the hallway. By the time he had reached the stairs, they felt like jelly. Somehow he managed to pull himself up the staircase on two feet. Owen pulled his shirt off and tossed it on the bed at the exact moment his legs collapsed underneath him. He found himself falling onto the bed, his body sprawled out on top of the covers. In that precise moment the exhaustion overcame him, his eyes closing before his head had hit the pillow.

* * *

" You stink." The words echoed in Owen's brain as he fought against his body to stay asleep. It took him a few seconds to register who the voice belonged to.

" Cristina?" he asked wearily, opening his eyes to assure himself he wasn't hearing things.

What are you doing here?"

" I live here," she retorted as she sat on the corner of the bed. Owen sat up and moved over so she could sit beside him.

" Can we talk?"

" Not until you shower," she replied. He glanced at the clock as he pulled off his clothes. Had he really just slept for over four hours?

" Guess a good run was all I needed," he muttered, limping to the bathroom.

" Better not let McDreamy hear you say that!" Cristina shouted as Owen entered the bathroom. He headed straight for the bathtub knowing that his legs wouldn't be able to hold his body up long enough for a shower. After filling the tub up with steaming hot water and a handful of Epsom salts for his aching muscles, Owen sank into the tub. The warm water felt heavenly as he submerged himself.

* * *

A few minutes passed by, his muscles feeling much looser. As much as he wanted to soak in the water until it was stone cold, Owen also desperately wanted to see Cristina. He quickly washed himself up, enjoying a few more minutes in the tub before he pulled the plug. Owen got out of the bath, wrapping a towel around his waist as he did so. Looking in the mirror, he carefully pulled the large bandage off his forehead. The cut that Jackson had stitched together snaked from his left temple to the end of his left eyebrow. It seemed to be healing well despite the fact it still looked awful. Owen grabbed some gauze and tape from a drawer, carefully re-applying the bandage. When he was finished he straightened up, now able to see his torso in the mirror. A long, thick scar ran from just below his clavicle to right above his abs. A second much smaller scar was to the right of it, left from where his chest tube had been placed. Owen found himself running his fingers down the length of the scar on his chest. It was at that precise moment that the seriousness of his injuries sank in. He had almost died. Beneath that scar was a still healing ribcage that had been cracked apart just a few short months ago, not to mention the rest of the damage that the bullets had inflicted. No wonder Cristina was pissed. Why had he done something nearly as stupid as tackling an unstable man with a gun?

* * *

He winced at the throbbing pain in his chest as he bent down to pull up his boxers and pants. Forget the concussion. His headache paled in comparison to the pain stemming from his broken ribs.  
" Can you grab me an icepack?" Owen asked as he re-entered the bedroom.

" Take your medicine," Cristina ordered before leaving the room. Owen swallowed the pills she had left out for him.

" I couldn't find an icepack, but there was an old bag of corn in the deep freezer," Cristina said, throwing the corn and a towel to wrap it in beside Owen on the bed.

" Cristina, I…" Owen started.

" I met Mr. Haney this morning."

" Who?"

" Webber's patient."

" How's he doing?" asked Owen.

" He's expected to make a full recovery. His wife asked me to tell you thanks for all you did to save him," she replied flatly.

" How did she know?"

* * *

" Security finally isolated the film from the incident and the police interviewed the bikers who instigated the fight. Turns out they had been kicked out of the event after their rider attempted to crash into the second patient who then crashed into Mr. Haney. The second patient apparently had slept with someone's married sister."

" Are you sure that wasn't the plot of last week's Jerry Springer episode?" joked Owen.

" If that's the episode I'm thinking of, the man made out with his former best friend's prize winning goat that participated in beauty pageants."

" When were you watching Springer?" wondered Owen.

" Someone left it on in the lounge."

" Sure they did," said Owen with a laugh as he turned towards Cristina.

" My money's on Karev," Cristina replied as Owen took her hand.

* * *

" You know, it didn't dawn on me until today of all the hell I put you through."

" You don't have to…" she started.

" That's where you're wrong. I do have to. I hurt you. I can't imagine what it must have been like. If I were in your shoes, if you were the one in a coma, facing death after doing something so stupid…Cristina, if you ever died I don't think I could possibly recover from that. I deserve all of your anger, disappointment, and then some. I should have waited for security."

" You should have kept your damn savior complex in check."

" I know. I wish I could say it would never happen again, but I'm done making promises I can't keep."

" Promise me one thing though?"

" That depends."

" Promise not to eat my share of the pizza I ordered. I'm climbing in the shower."

" Is it from Louie's?"

" They have a new loaded taco pizza."

" Then you better hurry. I'm starving."


End file.
